Windows to the Soul
by scottishdragon
Summary: It is said that our eyes are the windows to our souls. I believe it's true. Have you ever looked deeply into another person's eyes? Even with those closest to us it seems an unwelcome intrusion at times. To look deeply into someone's eyes for an extended period of time, is to see their true self. The outward appearance fades away. They're no longer young or old, beautiful or home


It is said that our eyes are the windows to our souls. I believe it's true. Have you ever looked deeply into another person's eyes? Even with those closest to us it seems an unwelcome intrusion at times. To look deeply into someone's eyes for an extended period of time, is to see their true self. The outward appearance fades away. They're no longer young or old, beautiful or homely, rich or poor, male or female. The walls their soul hides behind come down and they're left naked, bare, completely exposed.

The day started like any other. Elsie had just finished instructing her maids on what needed to get done to prepare for the guests coming for Christmas. She didn't normally take any time off during this week because of the increased amount of work that needed to get done, but this time she didn't have much of a choice. She was taking a half day today to go see Dr. Clarkson. She'd not told anyone, not even Mrs. Patmore this time. She didn't want anyone treating her any differently, like they did the last time they thought she was ill. Anyway, this wasn't anything potentially life-threatening. Her hands hurt, her fingers were swollen and she was having a hard time doing normal things, like opening her face cream or tying her shoes. The pain had even started waking her up at night. She was fairly certain she knew what it was. Her mother had it, and her grandmother as well. It had crippled their hands to the point they couldn't even comb their own hair. She sighed heavily as she went to inform Mr. Carson she was walking into the village for an errand. She only prayed he wouldn't ask her exactly where she was going.

She knocked on his door and entered, "Mr. Carson, I've an errand in the village this afternoon. I'll be back in a couple of hours. The maids know their tasks and should be well on their way to completing them by the time I return."

"I'm surprised you're leaving with all that needs to be done." he stated, his eyebrows raised.

"No worries Mr. Carson. It will all get done." she turned to leave quickly before he could ask anymore questions, but didn't quite make it.

"Where are you going that is so important?"

She stopped, turning but not looking up at him. "I told you I have some errands to run. Now, I must be on my way or I'll not be able to finish in a timely manner." She glanced up at him and caught his eyes which was a mistake. She immediately looked down, turned and closed his door. He was unnerved by her lack of explanation. He could see it in her eyes. He knew she'd not been completely honest about her errands and that worried him. They'd both been aware for some time that if their eyes met they could see what the other was thinking. It was quite uncanny and often unsettling. He tapped his pen on the page in his ledger as he thought, then laid it down and stood from his desk, making a decision. He went immediately to find Thomas. As he stepped into the great hall her looked up at the windows overhead and noticed it had begun to snow. He hadn't even noticed. He walked quickly to the library and strode to the large windows to look outside. He was shocked at the amount of snow already on the ground. He heard a sound behind him and turned to find Thomas looking at him curiously.

"Is everything alright Mr. Carson? Only I saw you walking quickly across the great hall and wondered if something had happened."

"Ah, Mr. Barrow, I was looking for you actually and was distracted by the snow. How long has it been snowing?"

"Well I assume most of the night Mr. Carson. Have you not been outside this morning?"

"No, I went right down to the wine cellar after breakfast and didn't notice until just now." His brow was furrowed deeply now, thinking of Elsie out in the snow. "Mr. Barrow, I need to go into the village. Can I trust you to take charge while I'm out? I don't think I'll be gone long...should be back before the gong I think."

"Of course Mr. Carson. I'd be happy to but, are you sure there's nothing wrong? You look a little...shaken up I suppose." Mr. Barrow asked, having never seen such a look in Mr. Carson's eyes before. His brows furrowed, his eyes wide and full of...fear? That was not something he'd never seen in his superior, even at the worst of times.

Charles narrowed his eyes, looking at Thomas for a moment, then realizing he was being sincere he answered. "Everything is fine Mr. Barrow. Thank you." Charles left and headed back downstairs to get his coat and hat. "Ah, Mrs. Patmore. Do you know what errands Mrs. Hughes is on in the village?"

"I don't. I didn't know she'd gone. I'm surprised she'd go out in this weather." she looked at him worried.

"As am I Mrs. Patmore. I think I'll go after her...make sure she gets back alright."

The cook looked up at him catching his eyes and smiled. She could see it as plain as day...concern, worry and yes...love. "I think that's a good idea Mr. Carson, but perhaps you should change first. It's really coming down out there." she suggested kindly.

Charles coughed and looked down quickly, realizing he'd given himself away. At least it was her and not Thomas. "I'll be fine." he replied, turning quickly to retrieve his coat, hat, scarf and gloves from his pantry and headed out into the snow. It was snowing heavily and the hem of his trousers were soon soaked, the heavy snow clinging to them. His breath puffed out in billowing clouds as he walked as quickly as he could. It was at least three inches deep already and piling up quickly. He could barely see the road in front of him. The only way he knew he was still on the road were the trees that lined it. "Good heavens!" he shuddered, clapping his hands together to try and stay warm. He honestly thought he would have caught up to her by now. She was small and quick but walking in snow would surely slow her down. He was not wearing appropriate footwear and his toes were beginning to sting.

Meanwhile, Elsie had made it safely to Dr. Clarkson's office. When she'd started out from Downton, it had only been flurrying, although there was a couple inches of snow on the ground. By the time she reached the hospital it had really started coming down and she was worried she'd not be able to make it back to the house. Now she sat in a cold examining room, waiting on the doctor. Thankfully, since he was just looking at her hands she didn't have to change into a gown. There was a knock at the door and Dr. Clarkson came in, smiling.

"Ah, Mrs. Hughes. What brings you in today?" he asked, concern framing his icy blue eyes.

She explained about the pain in her hands and about her family history and he examined her fingers and knuckles. "I'll need to draw some blood, just to be rule out other things, but I believe you have what we now call rheumatoid arthritis. We used to think it was a form of gout, but recent advances have discovered it unrelated. I'm afraid there is no cure and it will eventually get worse."

Elsie looked down at her hands as Dr. Clarkson moved her fingers, wincing when a particularly sore joint was moved. She nodded. "It is as I suspected. I'm not shocked." She looked up at him and he squinted his eyes a bit, deciding if she was really ok.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could give you better news, like last time. Studies show that it's best to keep moving for as long as you can. If you're lucky it may be limited to your hands, although not always." he smiled sympathetically, patting the top of her hand affectionately.

"Thank you Dr. Clarkson."

"When it's really bad you can take some beecham's. There are some studies ongoing but nothing conclusive and all experimental and to be honest I don't trust them. I'll give you some liniment to rub on your hands at night that might help a bit as well."

Elsie nodded. "Well, might as well accept it and keep going for as long as I can. Thank you again Dr. Clarkson."

"You are quite welcome."

After the nurse drew some blood, Elsie got up to leave and Dr. Clarkson glanced outside. "Uh, I'm not sure it's safe for you to walk back to the Abbey Mrs. Hughes."

"Nonsense. I'm a Scottish lass, this is nothing!"

Dr. Clarkson laughed. "True enough! But please, be careful."

"I will. Good day!" Elsie bundled back up and headed out into the heavy snow. She stopped just outside the door, shocked at how quickly the snow had piled up. _Best get a move on!_ She thought to herself as she headed out to the street. She stopped short just as she exited the hospital gate. She'd recognize that frame anywhere. Charles Carson was just walking past her toward town. She took a step back, not wanting him to see her coming from the hospital, but then noticed he was walking very slowly and he was breathing heavily. Instantly worried she stepped back out. "Oh...bugger it!" she cursed to herself. "Mr. Carson?!"

He turned immediately upon hearing her voice. "Mrs. Hughes?"

She strode over to him quickly, realizing quickly that he was much too cold. She looked down at his feet which were caked in snow.

"You're in your livery and dress shoes?! Mr. Carson, come with me right now." she said tugging on his arm.

"What? Where are you taking me?!" he shuffled along next to her, unable to walk normally, his feet numb.

"You're much too cold. We've got to get you warmed up!"

She pulled him along and into the hospital, quickly asking a nurse to find Dr. Clarkson. They ushered them into a room and Charles sat heavily on the bed. The nurse covered his shoulders in a blanket as Elsie stooped down and began removing his shoes.

"What on earth are you doing?!" he asked, horrified.

"Mr. Carson, you're feet are nearly frozen! We've got to get these shoes off and get your feet warmed!" He raised his eyebrows and looked up at her, realizing that there was real fear in her eyes...fear and a wisp of something else he couldn't quite grasp in his current state of confusion. The nurse came in quickly carrying a pan of warm water and helped Elsie get his shoes off. His feet were bright pink and stiff from the cold. Elsie blushed, having never touched him so intimately before. She took a cloth and dipped it into the basin of warm water, gently bathing his feet. He hissed as it touched his frozen feet, the warm water stinging. After a few minutes his feet had warmed a bit and he was able to place his feet directly into the warm water, which the nurse was replacing every little bit to keep it warm.

"Now then Mr. Carson...ah, it looks like you've been well attended." Dr. Clarkson stated as he entered the room. "Whatever made you think it a good idea to go out in weather like this in your livery and dress shoes? Surely you know how Yorkshire weather can turn in an instant."

"I...I was worried about Mrs. Hughes...the snow...it was so heavy and I was afraid she'd not make it into town." he said, rubbing his brow as his brain warmed back up. "It was foolish I realize now. She's a Scot!" he chuckled lowly.

"You were worried about me?" she asked, her voice a bit higher than normal. "Mr. Carson…"

He looked up at her and that's when he saw it, that wisp of something he'd only caught a glimpse of before was fully there now in her bright blue eyes...love. He swallowed heavily. "You were here weren't you? Why? Why were you here? Are you alright?!" he asked, worry creasing his brow and causing him to frown.

Elsie sighed heavily. "Yes...yes I was here and yes...I'll be fine. I'll explain it later, alright?"

"You're sure? You're sure you fine?" he almost sounded desperate.

"Yes, you stay here and warm up. I'm calling the house and having a car sent to pick us up." she stated firmly. He nodded and looked down at his feet in the warm water. When she'd left he turned to Dr. Clarkson who was checking his feet for signs of frostbite.

"Why was she here?" he asked quietly.

"I'm sorry Mr. Carson, that's private information. Mrs. Hughes has said she'll tell you later. Now, you're very lucky. I don't see any signs of frostbite but you're lucky you got in here when you did! You could have lost several toes! No more traipsing about in the snow without the appropriate footwear!" the Dr. paused for a moment glancing at Charles' hand, shaking slightly as it sat on his knee. "Have you told her about that?" he asked, gesturing toward Charles' hand.

Charles covered it with his free hand, rubbing it slightly. "No. There's no reason to just yet."

"Perhaps...perhaps you should consider it." the Dr. suggested giving him a knowing look.

Charles ignored the subject and asked the Dr., "It's not what it was before though?" he motioned with his head toward the door Elsie had exited.

Dr. Clarkson stood and looked him in the eye, placing his hand on his shoulder. "No. It's not what it was before." Charles could see he was telling him the truth. His straight forward gaze was earnest. He nodded at the Dr. "Now, you just relax here. I'll fetch some warm socks. What size shoe do you wear?"

"Uh, a twelve." he said, confused at the question.

A few minutes later Elsie returned, a fresh pair of socks and a pair of wellies in her hand. "Dr. Clarkson has loaned you his wellies to get back home in. Says he has three pair so he won't miss them." she said cheerily. She stooped down and began drying off his feet before he knew what she was doing.

"Surely the nurse can do that?"

"I told her I'd do it. I don't mind. Wouldn't you rather it be someone you know?" she asked, looking up at him. There it was again, in plain sight. Why had he never seen it before? Could she see it in his eyes too?

He nodded. "Yes...yes I suppose if anyone has to do it, I'd rather it be...you." She stood and handed him the socks.

"Put these on. I don't think I can manage that. Have you ever tried to put someone else's socks on? It's nearly impossible." she chuckled.

"What? No! Why on earth would I be putting someone else's socks on...for that matter why would you?" he asked tugging the thick socks on.

"Well...I had a younger sister you know...and…"

"And?"

"Well, I often helped her get dressed. Now, can you manage the wellies?"

He took them from her frowning. "Yes. I'm not an invalid." he grumbled.

"Dr. Clarkson says your feet are likely to be sore. You must keep them warm tonight and rest, put them up. I told Thomas he'd be in charge of dinner when I called."

He looked up quickly. "I don't think that was entirely necessary."

"It is Mr. Carson. You will go home, go up to your room, put on your thick wool socks and stay in bed. I'll bring a hot water bottle up and your dinner on a tray...and if you decide to stop being grumpy I might even stay and have a chat to keep you company." she smiled.

The car arrived and Charles shuffled out and got in next to Elsie. Much to their surprise, Mr. Branson had volunteered to pick them up.

"Mr. Branson! Surely Mr. Jones could have come for us?" Charles stated as he got in.

"I overheard the phone call. I'm rather skilled at driving in the snow so I volunteered. I don't mind." He smiled over his shoulder.

"Thank you Mr. Branson." Elsie replied smiling at him and rolling her eyes at Charles.

Once back at the Abbey, Charles safely tucked away in his room, Elsie set about fixing a tray with their dinners and filling a hot water bottle.

"Gave you quite a scare I take it?" Mrs. Patmore commented as Elsie fussed with their tea cups.

"He did. I don't know what on earth possessed him to come out after me so poorly dressed for the elements...and why didn't you stop him?" she asked looking up at the cook.

"Me? Stop Mr. Carson? Are you mad?!" she chuckled, shaking her head. "He was beside himself with worry over ya. There was no stopping that man for sure!" she stated sincerely.

Elsie blushed. "Well, I'll just take this up now. Thank you Mrs. Patmore." Once in his room she sat the tray on the dresser, then proceeded to pull the covers back to place the hot water bottle next to his feet.

"What are you doing?!" he asked incredulously grabbing at the blankets covering his legs.

Elsie stood back up, hands on her hips and sighed heavily. "I'm putting this hot water bottle down at your feet you old booby! For goodness sake, you are clothed under those covers aren't you?"

"Yes! Of course!"

"Well then stop being ridiculous! I have seen your pajama clad legs before!" she said as she yanked the covers back and placed the bottle up against his feet, then covered him back up. "Sometimes you are just…" she stopped, shaking her head because she couldn't find the right words.

"Just?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

"Exasperating! Infuriating! Exhausting!" she said, turning to pick up the tray that contained both their dinners. She winced as she picked up the tray, pain shooting through her fingers and he noticed immediately.

"What...you're in pain...what's wrong?" he asked, his eyes filled with worry and regret for being so stubborn.

"I'm fine." she stated, shortly.

"Obviously you're not or you wouldn't have been to see Dr. Clarkson." She remained silent, fussing with their plates on the tray. He covered her hand gently with his. "Elsie...please." he nearly whispered.

She let out a breath, pulling her lower lip in and biting it slightly, then swallowed. "It's nothing life threatening. I'll be fine." she stated quietly.

"Then tell me, please, so I don't worry." he pleaded.

She sat down in the chair next to his bed, her hands in her lap, staring down at them. "It's my hands...my fingers really. I have what they call rheumatoid arthritis. There's no cure. It will get worse. It causes your joints to swell, hurt and eventually stop working. Right now it's just in my hands but...well, I'm hoping that will be all that's affected." she looked up at him then, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "My mother had it...and my Gran. There's no way to tell how bad it will get…" His mouth was hanging open and he looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Charles, I'll be fine, you needn't worry that I cannot perform my duties…"

"I can't believe it." he managed to rasp out. "Elsie...there's something I need to tell you. You see, I recently visited Dr. Clarkson as well…about…"

"Your hands? The shaking?" she finished for him.

He looked up suddenly, searching her eyes. "How? How did you…"

"I noticed about a month ago. You handed me some papers and your hand was shaking, then later I handed you a cup of tea and it shook. I noticed it at breakfast a few days later as you held your fork…"

"You never said anything…"

"You're a private man Mr. Carson...and well, we are getting on aren't we?" she smiled sadly. "Has it gotten worse?" She asked, searching his eyes and seeing the answer before he spoke.

"Yes, it has. It's just so ironic. You see, my father and granddad had this too. It's not even a proper condition, there's no name for it. My Granddad just called it the palsy. I was hoping it would pass me by but alas it has not. Dr. Clarkson says it will most likely get worse, but how bad he cannot say. Right now it's just my left hand which is lucky I guess being as I'm right-handed, but it might affect my good hand in the future...no way to know." He held his hand out and stared at it as it shook. Elsie reached over and took it, rubbing it between hers.

"Well, we're a pair aren't we?" she chuckled. "Unfortunately, my right hand is most affected."

"We've a good pair of hands between us." he smiled ruefully.

She let go of his hands and pointed at his plate. "We best eat before it gets cold." They sat in silence and finished their dinner, sipping their tea, each deep in thought.

He sat his tea cup down and cleared his throat after he'd finished. "That's warmed me up."

"Good." she said quietly. She stood and began clearing things away, placing the tray on the dresser again as she did so.

"Mrs. Hughes...Elsie...might I speak plainly for just a moment?" he asked hesitantly.

She turned, her eyebrows raised in surprise. "When have you ever not spoken plainly Mr. Carson?" she teased, then seeing the seriousness in his eyes, she nodded and sat back down in the chair by his bed. "Of course…" she nodded.

"I'm not going to be able to continue for much longer as butler here." he looked at her pointedly. "I'd guess you know that much already." She nodded, her eyes sad. "And by the looks of things, I'm not certain you're going to be able to continue on much longer either." She nodded again, looking down at her sore hands. "Elsie…" he waited until she looked up at him again and there it was no longer a fleeting wisp...but full and real and just...love. Her eyes were filled with it, as were his. They stared deep and hard into each other's eyes, neither one even blinking for the longest time. He recovered first, "This is...this is not how I wanted to do this. I wanted to do it with class and style and perhaps a bit of romance…"

"What?" she whispered, her voice full of emotion.

"To ask you to marry me." he said simply, still staring deep into her eyes. The tears overflowed their bounds now and she gasped, her hand flying up to her mouth. "I love you, you see?" She nodded tearfully. "I love you and...and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

She sprung from the chair, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. His arms wrapping around her waist. She leaned back and looked him in the eyes again. "I love you too...so, so much!" she said, as she leaned in and kissed him firmly then pressed her forehead against his crying happy tears.

"So...is that a yes then?" he chuckled, pulling her closer.

"Yes! Most definitely yes!" she replied, kissing him again. She laid her head on his chest and sat there, leaned against him for a few more minutes before she spoke again. "I hate to say it, but I best be getting back downstairs. Mrs. Patmore will be wondering what has happened to me and come searching. Heaven forbid she find me laying in the bed with you!" she chuckled.

"That would definitely not do!" he chuckled too.

"Now, you stay in bed. I'll see you in the morning. If you're feet are still sore, you can keep them propped up downstairs and Thomas can take care of things."

"Alright." he agreed, not wanting to argue.

"We will discuss more tomorrow." she said, standing and brushing the wrinkles from her dress. She leaned in and kissed him one more time, humming against his lips. "Mmm, I find I really like doing that Mr. Carson." She leaned back and looked at him again, seeing in his eyes the same feeling she had in her heart...joy, surprise, excitement, anticipation...love.

They told the staff and family on Christmas Eve and the Earl called for champagne and celebration, bringing the gramophone into the great hall and insisting everyone dance. The joy for Charles and Elsie was palpable and radiated from every corner of the Abbey. It was best Christmas they'd ever had.

The day they were married was warm and bright, Spring bursting forth in glorious form. Her eyes shone like the sun kissing sparkling azure waters...his, like bright stars twinkling in the dark night sky. The love they had for each other shone forth for all who were present to see. Some were shocked, but most, those who knew them well, had seen that love for years, even decades! One thing was certain, these two souls belonged together and that's exactly where they stayed the rest of their days on earth...together.

THE END!


End file.
